originally posted Wednesday, August 23, 2017
When September Comes
hungry for wildebeest boxes sugar-topped corny
flakes
jellied berries of orange, red and blue dropped from
the world
wary that decorating signs of seasons changing like
neon dreams
become obstructions deftly yo distant destinies
Driveways of blacktop spiral downward in space-time
vortexes
girding the round world wankily
-creation encrusted in part
like a jewel
shedding months of amnesia fading yesterdays
unconcerned with old times' broods of days settled
while foods that flowed like shiny lucre
compiling resolutely and silently as August rolls
away
gold-plated to its temporal garage
sounds of potential emerging earthquake symbols
sun-tide of clouds overcoming mountains
taller than those eroded away
So nothing remains of summer to remind one of
bitter-sour
recognition that time is more and less
burnt creme repasts of something and nothingnesses-
verisimilitudes of years were barren and never being
Food for bear wistfully wandering wait where trees
fall
through clef notes echoed in chords when quantum
uncertainty
izes indeterminate super-positions of all possible
locations
nerve again isolated from wave-particles traversing
reasons that ideas and tides of words emerge to
expression
All forests of dying green meadows with fish of
September
seek magnetic traces of river's home profits
political currents covering hundreds of swimming
fins
through-put being and nothingness
After October another wave names months so cold
those in cracked, parched dry lakes baking under the
star
feel a glimmer of theoretical relief if a thought
receded in time to global warming farther north
packing November's proud icy snows
floating in fogs mountain skies
stops frosting one Earth with December
turning away from another like the year before
when solstice's short day leaves night smiling
every thing that could be said about September said
when poets that loved summer went on strike
thinking of grass mowed
and goats frolicked with piles of chewy delight
Just for a moment when the sun stops flight
Earth waits for second impulse to return to
increasing photon lucidity
as if tight days packed together were sober with
realization
sensing increase lost with the innocence of
September where the pressure of time
stocks stores up for fall transition
inventory clerks counting what's on shelves
discount stacks built time
a new class arrived to eyeball tomorrows with secret
lusts
rhymed with cheap novels worlds away
written about leaves falling in autumn colors
that were multifarious coatings of puke
barfed upon the topography like sessions of Congress
almost none loved
Presidential campaigns perfecting pomp and
circumstance
so persons of interest leaning against lampposts
contemplating unknown billions in back street pacs
indifferent to common hopes
for shelter beside the door, hammer and plans
in the bug hotel risen high
with a tidal wave of minutes given before
nothingness
the sum total of darkness
itself disappears before the day
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